One Potion in the Grave: A Magic Potion Mystery (27 page)

She sucked in a breath in an attempt to control the tears. “If I have to,” she said.

“Well, what’s two more at this point?” I asked, edging toward her. “It
was
you who killed Katie Sue, wasn’t it?”

Backhanding tears from her face, she hiccuped. “I loved Kathryn like a sister.” Pain crumpled her features. “How could she do that to me? It wasn’t my fault my parents wouldn’t let her marry Landry.”

I tried not to look at Marjie. I wanted to keep Cassie’s attention on me.

“I don’t know,” I said softly, trying to be sympathetic. It wasn’t easy with a gun pointed at me. “When did you find out that she was threatening to reveal your secret?” How long had she planned to kill the woman her brother loved?

Wiping more tears, she said, “I heard my parents
arguing about it after the rehearsal at your mama’s chapel. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing—until then I had no idea that Kathryn had threatened them. My daddy wanted to give in to Kathryn’s demands, but Mama wouldn’t budge. She kept saying Kathryn would never go through with it, but I knew Kathryn. She was—”

“Stubborn?” I supplied.

Cassandra nodded. “I disguised myself and went to find her after that terrible dinner. I wanted to hear her side. I found her in the gazebo.” More tears spilled over. “She wouldn’t tell me where the envelope was. Said she was standing up to my family, and though she hated to hurt me, it had to be done. I was so angry. I slapped her. She fell and hit her head on the corner of one of the benches.” She winced. “Blood went everywhere. I panicked—I couldn’t let anyone see what had happened. I dragged her into the woods.” In a quick burst, she said, “I took off her jewelry to make it look like a robbery and . . .” She gave her head a shake.

“Tossed her off the cliff?” I supplied, hating that I felt any sympathy for her. In a heated moment, she’d lost control. And lost everything she’d worked so hard to accomplish for herself—even though her popularity had grown from a lie, there was no denying all the good she’d done through her charitable work.

However, it was a far sight less than what Katie Sue had lost.

And now . . . the cover-up continued as Cassandra dug a bigger hole for herself. It was a wicked web she’d woven.

She nodded. “I didn’t know what else to do to . . . hide . . . Kathryn.” Watery eyes searched my face, and
she drew in another deep breath. “And then I had that jewelry, but as I made my way back to the inn, I saw Kathryn’s mama sitting in her truck—she was parked at the curb passed out behind the wheel—and her stepdaddy was paying me no mind as he walked back to the truck with two drinks from the coffee shop. Kathryn had told me all about her upbringing and how horrible her mama and stepdaddy had treated her. It didn’t take me but a second to decide to toss the jewelry into the backseat and keep on walking.”

“You wanted them to be arrested for the murder.”

Without a lick of remorse, she said, “Yes. I hated them on Kathryn’s behalf. They never were charged for the abuse they heaped on her. Maybe now they’d be punished for that.”

Her twisted reasoning made me queasy. The Cobbs might have abused Katie Sue, but they hadn’t
killed
her—as Cassandra had. “Do your parents know what you did?” I asked.

Her face registered her horror at the thought. “Heavens, no. Oh God. I don’t even want to think about that. I need that envelope. Please get it,” she asked so nicely it was hard to imagine that she had killed someone.

“I’m sorry. I just ran it down the street and dropped it in the mailbox,” I lied. “It’ll be a couple more days before it gets here again.”

She narrowed red-rimmed eyes. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I?”

Having no answer, she said, “I need that envelope. I’ve worked too hard to let it fall into the wrong hands. The election is in my sights. . . .”

“You earned that Senate seat,” I agreed, glancing
around for some sort of weapon. “All your charity work. The tireless fund-raising. And let’s not forget your accident. Was that planned, Cassie? That you take a literal fall to save your father’s reelection?”

“It was worth it,” she said, her tears finally slowing. “I was promised his Senate seat in exchange. Think of all the good I can do as a Senator,” she said. “If I hadn’t had that accident, no one would even know my name. I’m not outgoing enough for public office. My disability is what made me famous.”

She would have been a wonderful Senator. That was the shame of it all.

Her eyes had turned a bit wild. “Get the package, Carly. I’ll give you ten seconds before I shoot the old lady again.”

“Old?” Marjie barked.

This really wasn’t the time.

“Ten.”

“Cassie, the police are going to figure out you killed Katie Sue. Your DNA is on the pitchfork. There’s no getting away with this. You went too far.”

“Nine.”

“How’d she know?” I asked, trying to keep her talking. “How’d Katie Sue know you weren’t paralyzed?”

Blinking, she said, “We hung out a lot. She noticed how toned my legs were. She promised to keep the secret as long as I helped her sway my parents in her favor. We became good friends.” She snuffled. “I didn’t want to hurt her. I really didn’t. Please believe me. I just had to . . . protect myself.”

“Put the gun down, Cassandra,” a voice from the kitchen said.

My heart lurched as Dylan came into the room, his handgun pointed at her.

Cassandra spun around and swung the gun between Dylan and me. “I’ll shoot,” Cassandra threatened, now using both hands to control the gun because she was shaking so hard.

I met his gaze and immediately went into panic mode. I’d just gotten him back. If she shot him . . .

“You don’t want to do that,” Dylan said. “You’re not so into this that you can’t get out again.”

Cassandra was distracted by his words. That was good. Now all I needed was a weapon of some sort. I glanced at Marjie. She motioned toward the side table.

I followed the motion. A can of furniture polish rested atop a stack of books. I took a baby step sideways. Then another. I reached out and was able to wrap my hand around the can. I quickly stuck it behind my back and took a baby step forward, toward Cassie.

“This can’t be fixed,” she said. “I’m ruined. I’ve embarrassed my family. I . . .” She raised the gun to her temple.

“Cassie,” I shouted. “Here’s the envelope!”

She turned to me. I sprayed for all I was worth, a lemony scent filling the air. Cassandra let out a scream. Dylan lunged for the gun, and wrested it out of her hand. She dropped to the floor, crumpled and sobbing. Sirens screamed as cruisers pulled up in front of the house.

I dropped down next to Marjie. “Are you okay?” I asked, eying her wound.

“Takes a lot more than a flesh wound to take this old bird down.”

“Old?”

She gave me a look. “You have excellent aim with furniture polish. I wouldn’t have known it by the dust in your house. . . .”

I laughed to keep the tears away. Dylan glanced over as he cuffed Cassie. I was sure the relief I saw in his eyes was mirrored in my own.

“I’ve been thinking as I’ve been sitting here,” Marjie said.

“About what?”

“I might need a place to stay while recuperating with this here arm wound.”

Smiling, I said, “I think I know just the place.”

“Does it have a vacancy?”

“For you? Always.”

“Child, you know I love you, right?”

I kissed her cheek. “I won’t let it get around.”

Chapter Thirty-two

T
wo weeks later, I woke up and found myself pinned to the bed by floppy felines. Poly was stretched across my legs, and Roly was on my chest, her head lovingly bumping my chin.

My father was working at Potions today, so I had planned a rare morning of sleeping in, but here it was a little after six and I was wide awake.

After the past two weeks of chaos, I was trying to enjoy the peace. The quiet. But the silence seemed to amplify the thoughts in my head. The ones I didn’t like to think about.

In the two weeks that had passed, Cassie had been arraigned on murder charges—she pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity. A few days later, Warren had announced his resignation from politics, and the media assumed it had been because of Cassie’s arrest. There had been no mention of his illness at all. Both he and Louisa had been to every court date Cassie had, standing by their daughter.

Landry had gone into seclusion, but his latest song, “Can’t Quit You,” had soared to number one on the country charts and was holding steady.

Katie Sue’s infamous envelope had contained a disk documenting Cassandra’s medical history and the cover-up undertaken to hide the fact that she hadn’t been paralyzed.

My heart still ached for Katie Sue when I thought about all she’d gone through to fight for the man she loved. It was a lesson I’d taken to heart.

“Up, up,” I said to the kitties, trying to push them aside. “The coffee’s not going to make itself, especially now that Marjie’s back at her house.”

They lazily yawned and stretched, and I tossed back the thin sheet. I tugged the shade to get it to roll upward, and I looked out at the quiet street below. Dawn was breaking on the horizon, and the road looked like a photo on a postcard.

Mr. Dunwoody’s flowers were thriving.

Marjie’s front porch was being rebuilt.

Aunt Hazel’s bras hung from a clothesline.

Aunt Eulalie was in her yard doing tai chi.

A normal day in the neighborhood.

Across town, I imagined Jamie Lynn and Lyla waking up, too, to start work in the garden. They hadn’t attended a single court date of Dinah’s.

They’d gotten word last week about Katie Sue’s will, and it had only taken a day for Jamie Lynn to announce that she was starting a foundation that would help people with disabilities to buy the mobility equipment they needed. She didn’t want anyone to need a wheelchair and not be able to afford one.

I saw her out last week on a date with Junior McGee and she never looked happier.

Which made
me
happier than I could ever express.

The honey and syringe had been filled with highly toxic hemlock. It was a miracle Jamie Lynn had lasted as long as she did, being poisoned every morning. But now . . . she had her whole life ahead of her . . . and a lot of time to come to terms with Katie Sue’s death and what her mama had done to her.

She wasn’t the only one grieving. Gabi was, too. For Landry. As much as she knew he hadn’t been the man for her, she’d loved him. It was going to take some time for her heart to heal. In the meantime, she was working part-time at my mama’s chapel and had already won the hearts of many of the townsfolk.

Little Orphan Gabi was an orphan no more. The people around here had unofficially adopted her, stitching her square onto the edge of the crazy quilt that was this town. She was now here to stay. Hitching Post had a way of holding on to its own.

I flipped on a light in the bathroom, brushed my teeth, ran a comb through my hair, and glanced at the newly tiled shower. It was a thing of beauty, but still needed grout before I could use it. Dylan had been here every chance he got, working every spare moment. Patching my walls.

Patching my heart.

I switched on the light in the kitchen and smiled, knowing Dylan would be over later this morning, back to work, and he’d stay for supper. I was fixin’ his favorite roast chicken. He’d stayed late last night to finish the tile and had planned on sleeping in as well.

The cats ran to their dishes, meowing pathetically. I fed them, washed my hands, and filled the coffeemaker. I opened the cabinet for a mug and froze.

My eyes filled with tears.

I reached in and pulled out a Professor Hinkle mug that had been glued back together, its cracks sealed tightly.

A note hung from the handle. It read, “See? A little glue and it’s good as new. What do you say, Care Bear?”

I recalled what Dylan had said to me not that long ago.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t glue back together what was broken. Rebuild on what was a solid foundation.

My heart raced as I picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. A sleepy-sounding Dylan answered on the second ring.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I said. No, for once, it all felt right. “I was just wondering if you wanted to come over.”

“I thought we said ten? Did I get the time wrong?”

“No,” I said, hugging the mug to my chest. “I just thought you might want to come over sooner.”

“Like when?”

“Like now.”

“Now?” He suddenly sounded wide awake.

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Carly . . . I mean . . . What . . .”

I smiled at his stammering. “Dylan,” I cut in.

“Yeah?”

“In light of recent events, don’t use the lights and siren, but I’m okay if you break the speed limit. Seven minutes?”

“I’ll be there in five, Care Bear. I’m already on my way.”